


A Lot Like Love

by spaztronaut



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternative Universe - No Island, F/M, Goth Felicity Smoak, Oliver is Ollie in this, at least for awhile, but only for the first chapter, this whole story is basically just a string of conversations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2018-12-26 06:26:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12053214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaztronaut/pseuds/spaztronaut
Summary: After a chance meeting, Oliver and Felicity spend the next 8 years trying to put their lives together (mostly successfully), falling in and out of love (mostly with other people) and finding their way back to each other (repeatedly).(Based on the movie A Lot Like Love.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on the movie A Lot like Love, which, in my opinion, is the best rom com of all time. There's one scene in this chapter where I directly lifted two pieces of dialogue from the film and if you can spot them then I love you! Anyway, really hope you guy's enjoy this!
> 
> Also big thanks to @jennonthewire for helping me out with this chapter when I wrote it (last summer!). It was much appreciated :)

The first time he saw her was outside an airport in Boston.

A guy with greasy brown hair and an attitude stood on the curb next to an ancient hunk of junk Toyota—one door dented so badly he wasn't sure how the guy got it open—while she lugged a black duffle bag out of the trunk of a cab. The guy didn't even offer to help, just waved his hands around like they were having an argument. The girl—clad in a black leather jacket, green cargo pants and a sturdy looking pair of combat boots—threw her duffle over her shoulder and tilted her head to the side, giving the guy a deadly glare.

It was then that Oliver Queen pulled out his cell phone and snapped a shot of the pair.

He'd always loved capturing people—moments—in photographs. He had hundreds of photos of his little sister, Thea, as well as his mother on his laptop. Photos of their housekeeper, Raisa, smiling as she cooked dinner or made up the bedrooms. Oliver had considerably less photos of his father, Robert, but he felt the ones he did have were fitting. Robert behind his imposing mahogany desk in front of a wall of windows overlooking the city below. The city in which his family practically ruled due to their name and wealth.

Oliver also had photos of his friends, mostly Tommy and Laurel. Lots of photos of the three of them partying, especially Tommy. Some of the photos of Laurel were... private, but they were still moments he wanted to capture for reasons that were decidedly not pervy, no matter what Tommy said about it.

He didn't usually take photos of strangers. In fact, he never took photos of strangers, but there was just something about this particular moment that was striking enough to warrant Oliver pulling out his camera. Distracting himself with the beautiful goth girl and her boyfriend was less daunting than the conversation awaiting him once he told his parents he'd dropped out of yet another college.

Sighing at the reminder that, even though he had a layover in Vegas, he'd be home soon, he dropped his phone into his pocket and grabbed his luggage, hoping it would be a _long_ flight.

The second time he saw her was at 30,000 feet in the cramped cabin of a commercial airplane. She was sitting just five rows up from him in first class.

He was astonished that he'd ended up on the same flight as the goth and that he'd managed to notice her at all—he usually slept on flights like this. But how could he miss her? Her long, dark hair and tough as nails attitude practically demanding his attention as she declined a bag of mixed nuts from the flight attendant. She was mysterious, enticing, and sexy as hell. Oliver didn't know he had a thing for goths until the very moment she turned in her seat and made eye contact with him.

He'd always been good with women. Never had to try very hard to win a woman over. But with this girl... Oliver didn't even have to say a word.

After a contemplative look, the goth stood from her seat—never once breaking eye contact—and sauntered towards the bathroom in the back. When she passed him, she reached out, running her fingers over the buttons of his shirt, up toward his neck, scraping her black nails against his skin as she went. When he whipped around to watch her go—God, she had a great ass, even in cargo pants—she glanced back over her shoulder, throwing him a wink. Or what he assumed was supposed to be a wink, at least. She sort of just blinked at him, but it was cute and she was sexy and, after waiting a whole thirty seconds, he followed her into the tiny airplane bathroom.

He knew it was going to be an uncomfortably tight fit—airplane bathrooms usually were—but when he opened the door to find her sitting on the edge of the sink, already working on the buttons of her pants... Yeah. It was so worth it.

###

Oliver wasn't exactly the kind of guy who sought a girl out after sex, but when the goth disappeared into the crowded terminal as soon as their plane landed, he couldn't help but keep an eye out for her.

He found her twenty minutes later at the baggage claim. She was sitting alone, head in her hands as she waited for her bag to come around.

"Hi, I'm Oliver," he said, approaching her with a charming grin. The girl didn't even lift her head, just tilted it to the side a little so she could see him through her hair. "I said 'hi, I'm—"

"I heard you," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I just don't understand why you're ruining it."

Oliver narrowed his eyes, brows furrowing. "Ruining what?"

"Us," she said simply, sitting back and finally raising her head to look at him. She took him in from head to toe and Oliver had never felt quite so judged in his life. Not even when his father was berating him. "Our experience."

"Our _experience_?" Oliver chuckled, feeling smug. "I don't think introducing myself is going to ruin that."

She stood, just as a few bags came around the corner of the carrousel. "Before you were the hot, mysterious guy I had spontaneous sex with on a plane. Now you're just Oliver." She shrugged, stepping closer to the luggage as it approached.

"Come on," he laughed, "what's your name?" When it became clear she wouldn't answer, Oliver huffed. "You don't exactly make it easy for a guy."

Felicity hefted her duffle bag off the conveyor belt, turning narrowed blue eyes on him. "I think I made it pretty easy for you, Oliver."

With that, she marched off, back into the crowd.

Oliver didn't mean to follow her.

Okay, he kind of did, but not in a creepy way. His flight to Starling City didn't board for another nine and a half hours—a long layover in Vegas seemed fun when he’d booked the flight—and he had to do _something_ , right? Goth Girl looked like she knew where she was going, so he figured he'd follow her lead.

He caught up to her by the taxi line outside the airport's main entrance, after nearly being distracted by a group of sorority girls playing the slot machines. Sitting on a concrete bench, the goth stared down at her phone indecisively.

"Thinking of calling your boyfriend?" Oliver asked, stepping up beside her.

She rolled her eyes, but didn't bother looking over at him. Instead, she snapped her phone off and shoved it deep into her pocket. "My mother, actually. She was supposed to pick me up, but she's not here, so... I should probably count my blessings."

Taking her answer as an invitation, he sat down beside her.

"I feel you," he said, then sighed. "I'm planning on enjoying my layover here because once I get home to Starling, my parents are going to kill me."

"See you just keep ruining it." The goth shook her head, leaning back in exasperation.

"How—"

"Because you're not mysterious, hot plane guy anymore. You're not even mysterious, hot plane Oliver anymore." She gestured toward him, her hand flapping in his direction. "Now you're just Oliver from Starling who pissed off his parents."

He couldn't understand why knowing things about him was killing this thing between them for her. Girls usually prattled away while he ignored most of what they said, but he at least _pretended_ to listen.

"Well, you're the goth girl with the unreliable mother and a possibly ex-boyfriend in Boston," he sniped back.

She stood from the bench, giving him a long look, her forehead crinkled adorably as she squinted down at him. "How'd you know about him?"

"Your boyfriend?" Oliver asked. "I saw you with some guy in Boston. Looked like you were having a fight."

"Oh, that," Felicity dismissed with a wave of her hand. She spun around, walking towards a newly arrived cab and Oliver hurried to keep up. "Yeah, we were having a fight. More like he was still trying to have a fight and I was leaving him because he's a dumbass."

"What happened?" Oliver asked, genuinely curious as he pulled open the cab door for her. He'd been curious ever since he'd seen their body language at the airport. It'd screamed _story_ and, while Oliver wasn't usually nosy, there was just something about this girl that intrigued him.

"He wanted to be Robin Hood," she said, chucking her duffle into the backseat before sliding in herself.

"Robin Hood?" Oliver laughed. "What the hell does that mean?"

Instead of an answer, the goth smiled, really smiled, for the first time since he'd met her. "I'm Felicity," she said, then slammed the door shut. After saying something to the cabby, she wiggled her fingers at Oliver through the window as the cab pulled away from the curb.

"Felicity," he couldn't help but repeat to himself as he watched her disappear into traffic and out of his life.

As far as he was concerned, knowing her name hadn't done anything to diminish their _experience_. It just gave him something to remember her by.

###

Felicity's day wasn't going very well.

She'd broken up with Cooper, then he'd followed her to the airport to try to tell her how ridiculous she was being. And now her mother had stood her up at the airport, even though Felicity texted her three times this morning to remind her.

On the plus side, she'd had sex. Really, really good sex, so that was nice. But everything else sucked and would continue to suck until she was out of Las Vegas again.

The cab pulled up to the MGM and Felicity paid the fare, then turned with a sigh. The casino was bustling, a group of suit clad young men pulling up in a limo, a group of blue haired grandmas in too big t-shirts with fanny packs around their waists exiting from the lobby. Families and friends and strangers alike were there to have a good time.

Most people loved coming to places like this. For Felicity, it felt like this city was draining her life energy, and she hadn't even seen her mother yet. With a resigned huff, Felicity squared her shoulders, marched into the cacophony of the hotel lobby, and headed straight for the bar.

Dinging and clanging, bells and whistles, people shouting over all of it. It made Felicity's teeth clench like nails on a chalkboard. She'd always hated how loud Vegas was, even in the off season. With the holidays just around the corner, everything was festooned in garish greens and reds. Sparkling christmas lights invaded every open nook and cranny, adding to the spectacle. And in the center of it all stood a tall Christmas tree, families gathering around to revel in the splendor of it all.

"Not even one menorah," she muttered to herself, earning a look from a family that had been taking a photo in front of the tree.

Leaving most of the crowd behind, she made her way to the bar, immediately spotting the blonde hair and tight red dress she'd been looking for. There weren't many people at the bar this time of day, so Donna Smoak was leaning close to one of the guests, probably smiling and flirting her way into a good tip.

"Mom!" Felicity called, dropping her bag beside one of the bar stools.

Donna's head snapped up immediately. She spun around so fast that Felicity couldn't help but wonder how she'd managed that kind of pivot in six inch heels.

“ _My baby_!"

The ear piercing screech hit her half a second before her mother crashed into her, wrapping her arms around her in a tight embrace.

"Mom, Mom!" Felicity protested. "Too tight. I can't breathe."

Donna ignored her melodramatics, but pulled back to look at her. "My baby's home!" she grinned, and Felicity _almost_ smiled back. That was, until Donna pulled Felicity into her side, spinning her towards the bar patron she'd been speaking to. "Alan, this is my Felicity. I was just telling you all about her." Looking back at Felicity, she threw her a not so subtle wink and a nudge. "Alan is a... a... Oh, well," Donna chuckled. "He does something techy. You should give him your number."

Felicity hazarded a glance in Alan's direction. Alan was probably about twenty-five with an already thinning hairline and day drinking in an empty casino bar. Yeah, that wasn't happening.

Ignoring her mom's disappointed frown, Felicity took a seat at the end of the bar.

"What are you doing here so early, sweetheart?" Donna asked, hopping up onto the stool next to her. "I thought I was picking you up from the airport?"

"You were," Felicity gritted through her teeth, trying to keep a lock on her anger. The last thing she needed right now was to get into a fight with her mother on the first day of winter break. "At eleven."

Donna's ruby red lips parted in anguish, a perfectly manicured hand rising to her sizable chest. "Oh no!" she cried. "I forgot. Oh, baby, I'm so sorry. Oh, sweetheart!"

Felicity closed her eyes briefly, pressing her lips into a tight line. She was almost at the threshold for her mother's dramatics and she'd only been there five minutes.

"It's fine, Mom," she said, looking back at her mother. "I caught a cab."

"Tell you what." Donna smiled, brushing her hand across Felicity's shoulder. "Once my shift is over, I'll take you out for ice cream and then we'll go home and you can tell me all about your break up with Cooper."

"No, Mom..."

"Felicity," Donna said, shifting closer and taking her hand. "A mother wants to be there when her daughter's going through a break up. It will be good for both of us. We haven’t really talked in ages."

Felicity, for all of her rebellious spirit and dark makeup, couldn't completely dismiss her mother. So, instead, she lied. "I would love to, Mom, but I'm actually meeting a friend."

"A friend?" Donna asked, looking taken aback. Affronted as she felt at her mother’s disbelief, Felicity couldn't really blame her. She hadn't had many friends growing up. Chalk it up to skipping two grades or just her sparkling personality, but she hadn't ever connected to any of her peers here in Vegas, so Felicity's claim of spending time with a friend was bound to spark suspicion. "Oh... well," Donna said, trying to hide her frown. "That's nice. Who are you meeting?"

"It's... You don't know him," Felicity said quickly, her brain latching onto the image of Oliver and his stupid good looking face. "He's only in town for a little while and I really wanted to spend some time with him."

"Him?" her mother chirped, clearly excited at the prospect of Felicity spending time with a man. As far as Donna was concerned, any man would do, as long as he had, you know, man parts and wasn't married.

"Yeah." Felicity smirked, a plan forming in her head. "His name's Oliver and he's stopping through to see me before heading home to Starling."

“Oliver.” Donna's eyes lit with delight as she repeated the name to herself. "Is he handsome?"

"Yup." Felicity smiled, hopping off the stool and taking a step back. "But he's got some bad news waiting for him when he gets back, so I wanted to make sure his trip is extra special. Sorry that I won't be able to spend much time with you while I'm here."

Donna smiled sympathetically. "Oh, sweetheart, that's okay. You can always spend time with me, but your friend isn't here for very long. Oh!" Sliding off her own stool, Donna headed around the bar, ducking under it for a moment. When she popped back up, blonde curls bouncing around her shoulders, she handed Felicity a set of keys and made a shooing gesture. "Go on, take my car. It’s in the lot. Have fun. And be safe," she added with a meaningful look.

"Ugh, Mom!" she protested. "It's not like that."

But it was actually exactly like that. Or, at least, it had been like that. There was no chance she'd actually run into Oliver again, seeing as he was still at the airport waiting for his flight, so while she wasn't opposed to a repeat of what they'd done on the plane—quite the opposite actually—it wasn't something that was going to happen again.

What a shame, too. Oliver might not have been her type, but he was definitely the most... skilled guy she'd ever been with.

Grabbing her duffle off the floor, Felicity headed home to drop her stuff off and then maybe she’d find a quiet place to grab a coffee and get a jump on some coding.

###

 

Gambling wasn’t exactly Oliver’s strong suit, but when in Vegas…

By the time he wandered back onto the noisy Vegas strip he was down $800 and two drinks deep. Pulling out his phone told him he still had several hours to kill before he needed to get back to the airport, but, unbelievable as it seemed, he was already bored of Vegas. Too much money, alcohol, and women at his fingertips. He wanted a challenge, especially after meeting that feisty goth chick this morning.

 _Felicity_.

He moved through the crowded sidewalk, wishing he’d gotten her last name or her phone number, but maybe she was right. Maybe part of her allure came from the not knowing. That would definitely explain why he couldn't get her off his mind. That and the sex, because, if she could do _that_ in an airplane bathroom, what could she do in an actual bed?

As he walked further down the Strip, daydreaming about dark hair fanning out over satin sheets, a flash of that same dark hair caught Oliver's eye through a window and he whipped around, mind conjuring images of his goth, smirking and looking just as sexy as she had on the plane.

Blinking, first through the glare off the window and then in surprise, he realized it really was Felicity sitting there in a booth behind the glass, typing furiously away at a laptop.

What were the chances he’d actually run into her again?

Astronomical, probably, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. If the universe wanted to serve Felicity up to him, then who was he to say no?

Quickly finding the door, a bell chimed as he pushed into the diner. Red vinyl booths ran along three walls and a counter stood front and center, a large retro clock displayed on the wall behind it. There was an overall ‘50s theme happening, but it wasn't enough to be kitsch. Ignoring the smiling waitress behind the counter, Oliver moved further into the diner to where Felicity was sitting.

“Mysterious, hot plane girl,” he said, sidling up to her table with a smirk. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Startling slightly in a way that gave Oliver great pleasure, she turned to look at him, eyes wide behind a pair of dark plastic frames she hadn’t been wearing earlier. “O-Oliver… What…”

It was a strange thing, this unflappable girl looking so out of it just because he’d shown up unexpectedly. He took the moment of confusion to slide into the booth across from her before she could tell him to beat it, which he was absolutely expecting her to do at any second.

“I was wandering around, saw you through the window. Thought I’d say hi, since the universe seems to want us together.” He smiled when she rolled her eyes at that statement, seemingly over her momentary shock at seeing him.

“It’s not the universe,” she scoffed. “Just my brief lapse of judgment on that plane.”

Oliver did his best to look affronted, placing a hand to his chest as if he was wounded. “You don’t think it’s fate? Even after this?” he said, gesturing around them to the diner.

“I think it’s a mix of revenge sex, stalking and me hacking my way into first class, but if fate works for you”—her smirk transformed into a full on grin as she spoke—”go with it.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow, interested in the hacking thing, but decided to let it go for now. Instead he laughed, “Revenge sex? Now I feel cheap.”

“You should.” She clicked something on her laptop and, for a moment, Oliver thought she was about to send him packing, but then she closed the lid and relaxed a little more into the booth. She watched him for a long moment before the corner of her lips tipped up just the slightest bit. “What do you want, Oliver?”

Honestly? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was, he enjoyed this game they were playing and he wanted to keep playing it.

“The story,” he said finally, following her lead and getting comfortable on his side of the booth. “You used me for my body,” he teased. “I’d like to know why.”

Exasperation flickered through her blue eyes, and Oliver might have backed off if he hadn’t seen amusement there as well. She was enjoying the game just as much as he was, even if she was reluctant to admit it.

"I'm going to need a burger and a strawberry milkshake if you expect me to bare my soul," she said with a long, put upon sigh.

Oliver grinned and waved the waitress over. “Sounds good to me.”

###

"Hacktivism sounds kind of badass," Oliver said once Felicity was done explaining how her boyfriend— _ex_ -boyfriend—had stolen the computer virus _she_ designed and used it to hack into and delete student loan debt.

"Sure," Felicity shrugged, "if it's done responsibly. But Cooper is an idiot who's going to get himself arrested." She shook her head, before popping a fry into her mouth. "Thank god, I managed to cut the connection before he did any real damage. The FBI showing up asking questions is the last thing I need." She huffed a sigh. “I should have known that it was never going to work out with him. He already had two strikes against him."

"Two strikes?" Oliver asked, eating a few of his own fries. He’d already polished off his burger so fast Felicity wasn’t sure he’d even tasted it.

"Yeah," she said, popping another fry. "Last year I caught him cheating off me on a test. Not to mention, I was the one to ask him out. How many chances should a guy get?”

"You like a guy that makes the first move?" Oliver smiled, clearly going for that effortless charm that must usually have girls eating out of the palm of his hand. "So if I asked you out right now, you'd say yes?"

Felicity's face scrunched up in confusion for a moment, but she composed herself quickly, instead shooting him an amused look. She played with the straw of her milkshake, just watching him for a moment. She knew he expected her to be swooning at his attempt to woo her, and the uncomfortable look that crossed his face when she didn’t nearly had her laughing out loud.

"I'm pretty sure I'm the one who seduced you on that plane, Oliver," she said with a smug smile. "That means _I_ made the first move."

"I didn't know we were counting the plane," Oliver muttered, before glancing away to finish off his fries.

"Of course, we were. If a guy isn't interested in making a move the very first time he sees you, then he's not interested."

Oliver snorted. "We had sex. I was plenty interested. You didn't give me a chance to make the first move."

"You would have done something besides blink at me if you were interested in more than a quickie." He opened his mouth to argue, but Felicity waved it off. "Besides, you're a preppy frat boy. That's strike two already."

"I already have two strikes?!" Oliver leaned forward incredulously. "That's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair, Oliver," she said, as she plunged her straw in and out of her shake a few times. "Not even to someone like you."

“What does that mean?” he asked, sitting back and folding his arms across his chest.

“It means,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “that no matter how handsome or charming or rich you are—Oh, yeah, I can tell you’re rich. Just look at your shoes—not everything in this world is yours for the taking.”

“You seemed pretty open to the taking on the plane.” He smirked, blue eyes crinkling prettily, but she was immune to his charm.

"Like I said, brief lapse of judgment. I’m sure that happens to you a lot.” At his shiteating grin, she scrunched her face up in disgust. “You should probably get tested," she said, eyeing him, before she grimaced. " _I_ should probably get tested after what we did. Ugh. That was not my smartest move."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "I've been tested. I'm STD free as of two weeks ago. You?"

She glared, but he just raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

"I'm clean," she huffed after a moment. "No worries there. And I can't believe that's a thing you have to do. How many women have you slept with?"

"And Robin Hood?" Oliver asked, ignoring her judgmental question.

“He’s clean, too,” she hissed, annoyed at his prodding. “We’ve been dating for over a year.”

“What does that have to do with it?” he asked, leaning back into the booth. “I have a girlfriend and _we_ still had sex.”

At his words, Felicity froze, her insides turning to ice as she stared at him, mouth gaping. “I’m sorry. You what?”

“I’m _technically_ dating someone. Didn’t stop us this morning.” He shrugged, taking a long sip of his soda. “I’m just saying, just because you’re dating someone doesn’t make you immune to STDs.”

Part of her got what he was saying, the other part was slowly thawing and turning into a raging inferno of… _rageiness_ because, “YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?!”

Oliver glanced up from his soda, eyes wide and suddenly wary. _Good_! Except a few of the other diners—and staff—were looking in her direction now, too.

“What the hell do you mean you have a girlfriend?” Felicity spit, using her indoor voice this time and hoping people would stop staring. “What the hell, Oliver? Having a girlfriend means you _don’t_ go around screwing random girls in airplane bathrooms!”

"Hey,” he said, throwing a hand up in a gesture she was sure he thought would calm her down, but it only pissed her off more. "You seduced me on that plane, not the other way around.”

Felicity gaped at him, eyes wide with incredulity. "Yes, I had sex with you. Willingly. Because I had just broken up with my boyfriend and wanted to. It was not my job to make sure you weren't being a cheating bastard. That's your responsibility, buddy."

"You're right." Oliver nodded then shrugged. "But it's not an unusual occurrence for me—"

"So you proudly admit that you're a cheater?" she cut him off.

"I never said I was _proud_ of the things I do," Oliver argued.

"Oh, bullshit!" Felicity shook her head disgustedly. "You were plenty proud of yourself on that plane. Don't act like you're some sort of victim of circumstance. If you weren't proud of being a douchebag, then you wouldn't be one."

"I'm not a douchebag." Oliver grabbed his soda, taking a gulp like this conversation, like cheating on his _girlfriend_ , didn’t even faze him. "I might not be the most monogamous guy on the planet, but I love Laurel. I've loved her for years."

"Look," Felicity said, rolling her eyes, "far be it for me to criticize your relationship with a girl I don't know and don't give a shit about, but if you loved her," she paused, blue eyes locking onto his, pointedly, "you wouldn't be screwing strangers in airplane bathrooms."

For a moment he frowned, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy. Felicity definitely felt like kicking him. Because, whatever she said, she did give a shit. She’d just done something unforgivable with another girl’s boyfriend and, while she may not know her or be the first to do it, knowing that she had aided in betraying someone, however accidentally, was an unpleasant feeling.

He ran a hand over the back of his neck, glancing away uncomfortably. “You’re right,” he said finally. “Laurel and I have problems, but I do love her. I’ve loved her most of my life. And now we’re in different colleges, in different cities, and things are tricky, but you’re right. I could work on being a better boyfriend. And I’m sorry,” he added, “for involving you in my mess like that.”

Felicity wasn’t sure what to say. He seemed sincere, but his relationship wasn’t really her business. What happened, happened. Nothing she could do about it now, except make sure it didn’t happen again, which it definitely _was_ _not_ going to now that she knew about Laurel.

“Okay,” she said quietly, accepting the apology.

“Are you mad now?” he asked, still sporting full on puppy eyes and, for some reason, they managed to suck her back in despite herself.

Even though she knew she should leave it at that—tell him to have a nice life, pay for lunch and go home—she just couldn’t. Her anger over unwittingly becoming a homewrecker was fading and the idea of spending the rest of the night coding and having an awkward dinner with her mother just wasn’t as appealing as it had been before Oliver showed up.

She wasn’t sure why, but she’d enjoyed the last hour—aside from the homewrecker thing—and didn't want to part ways just yet. Oliver might be cheating scum, but he was also the only person besides her mother that she knew in the whole city, and she liked talking to him.

“What time’s your flight?” she asked suddenly, an idea forming.

“Eight,” Oliver answered, brows furrowing at her question, but she ignored him, checking the time on her phone. She hadn’t been there in years, but if they left now they could make it back in time...

She slid out of the booth—the vinyl squeaking oh so flatteringly as she did—and headed for the door. Oliver quickly threw some money down on the table and followed after her.

"Hey," he yelled as she looked both ways before crossing the street to her mom’s old, red Mazda. "Wait up."

"Do you want to go somewhere with me?" she asked, spinning around to look up at him when he caught up.

He watched her for a long moment, too long a moment, before nodding, and she gestured for him to get in the passenger's side before climbing in herself.

###

“Felicity, wait up!”

Oliver stumbled over a rock, causing his foot to slip down the rocky trail he was currently climbing, trying to keep up with Felicity.

He was athletic, he shouldn’t be having such a hard time with this. Granted, he hadn’t hiked much in his life, or ever. He was more of a treadmill runner. Didn’t go out into the actual outdoors unless it involved sand and bikinis. His foot slipped on the smooth sandstone again, allowing Felicity to pull ahead even more.

“My dad used to take me out here as a kid,” she’d said, eyes on the mostly empty road ahead of her as they’d driven into the desert. “It was kind of our place, you know? Mom never liked being out in the sun for too long—gives you wrinkles, she says. But me and my dad, we’d come out every couple of weeks to look at the view.”

“What view?” Oliver had asked.

She’d turned to him with a teasing smile. “You’ll see.”

He’d been a little shocked when Felicity had pulled the car into a national park—one that just looked like more desert—and kept driving. She drove, past desert and cacti and rocks jutting up out of the sand, until she found the spot she was looking for, a semi-deserted parking area at the foot of a huge rock face.

“Come on,” she’d said, hopping out of the car. “This way.”

Oliver followed, realizing that there were a number of trails heading up into the rocky hills. There weren’t many people around at first, but the further they walked the more groups they came upon. Two hikers just coming back from a trail, a couple of kids giving their parents a hard time about going back to the car, a tour group taking a break in a shady spot. The further in they went, the steeper the trail, the harder it became to keep up. Which led him here, to Felicity gaining ground while Oliver just tried not to slip.

“Do you want a break?” she asked about thirty minutes into their hike. She stopped, leaning back against a boulder, and pulled a bottle of water from the backpack she’d picked up at a gas station before they’d left Vegas. Oliver leaned beside her, gratefully taking the bottle when she offered it. He took a long sip, looking out over the view.

Even in December it was warm out here in the sun, but he could already see why she liked it. Desert stretched out in every direction and more jagged red cliffs rose in the distance. It was bleak, but beautiful. So much history, so much that had nothing to do with them. They were just here in passing and tomorrow, when he was back in Starling, or in a few weeks when Felicity was back in Boston, or in a hundred years when they were both dead and gone, this would still be here. It was both terrifying and beautiful. Kind of like Felicity.

“I didn’t realize I’d be hiking quite so much today. I would have worn better shoes,” Oliver said, looking down at his boots. They were expensive, but not exactly made for this sort of thing.

“If I can do it in combat boots, you’ll be fine,” Felicity said, then closed her eyes, shaking her head and it took Oliver a moment to recognize the slight innuendo in her words. “I mean… Oh, you know what I mean.”

Oliver bit back a smile, but when she peeked at him from the corner of her eye he couldn’t help but give her a lecherous grin. “You did it just fine in combat boots earlier.”

Felicity rolled her eyes, grabbing the water bottle back and taking a long sip. “Let’s not talk about The Mistake ever again,” she said. “Come on, long way to go and we don’t have much time to do it. See it,” she corrected quickly. “Hike it. Shit.”

Oliver laughed, enjoying how flustered she was, and pushed off the wall to follow after her.

It took about an hour before Felicity grabbed his hand, hurrying to the right past a jagged piece of sandstone. Scurrying up the rock, she pulled him along until the view opened up and he could see... more desert.

“This is great. Looks totally different than the desert on the other side…” Oliver teased, turning in place to look behind him at the rest of the desert stretching in the other direction, but stopped suddenly when he saw what Felicity was looking at.

To his right was Las Vegas, shining like a mirage in the distance.

“Oh,” he breathed, blinking at how brightly the sun was reflecting off the hotels and casinos.

“Yeah,” Felicity said, beside him. “My dad always said Vegas sparkled more during the day then it ever could at night.” She carefully lowered herself to the dusty ground, stretching her legs out before her and pulling another water and a candy bar from her bag. “We were a lot alike, me and my dad. He was the one who taught me about computers.” She smiled, tearing open the chocolate bar and taking a bite.

Oliver sat down too, unconcerned with the fact that he was probably ruining his designer jeans, too torn between looking at the view and watching her. He didn’t know why she was opening up to him like this, considering she hadn’t even wanted to know his name earlier, but he wasn’t going to mess it up by complaining about some dirt.

“I built my first computer at seven.” Her smile turned sad as she played with the crinkling wrapper in her hand. “It was after… after he left. I took apart all of the electronics he’d left around the house for parts, thinking that maybe if I could build a computer like he did, he’d see how smart I was—that I could help him with his work—that he would take me with him.”

Oliver didn’t do feelings. He wasn’t that guy. He’d told Laurel so countless times. But, whether it was the look on Felicity’s face or the hollow sound of her voice, Oliver reached over and took her hand. She startled, blinking away what he could only imagine were tears, but he couldn't be sure from this angle.

“My dad was a pilot,” he said softly. “Or, he knew how to fly. He actually owns a pretty big company in Starling. Sometimes he'd take me into the office with him, but he never had time for me there. He’d let me sit in his chair while he went to meetings. Give me a soda and let his secretary deal with me. And when he _was_ at home, he was either too tired or getting ready for some event or trip or...” Oliver laughed humorlessly at the memories. “But when he flew, he always took me with him. It was our thing, kind of like coming here with your dad. And when it was just the two of us up there, he would talk to me. Teach me things. He used to do his own maintenance on the plane and he taught me.” Oliver smiled, gaze still focused on the shining city in the distance. “I remember one time our radio broke and we had to land at this little airport in the middle of nowhere. We took the whole thing apart and managed to fix it together. It was just us for the whole day, talking and trying to fix the radio, completely disconnected from everything else in the world. It’s still one of the best memories I have with him.”

“You guys don't get along anymore?” Felicity asked softly, removing her hand from his and taking a sip of water, before handing him the bottle.

Oliver shook his head, both to the question and the offer. “No, not really. The older I got the more… I don't know. The more I felt like a disappointment. I wasn't smart enough or serious enough. I haven’t exactly followed the plan he's laid out for me. College, career, marriage. He has it all figured out, but I feel like… like…”

“Like you're lost in a desert,” Felicity teased, gesturing out in front of them.

“Kind of,” he laughed. “What about you? You get along with your mom?”

Felicity sucked in a sharp breath, leaning back on her hands. “I moved all the way across the country to get away from my mom. What do you think?”

Oliver watched her, waiting for a better answer.

“She doesn't get me,” Felicity sighed after a moment. “I’m at MIT working my ass off to get a double masters so that I can go out into the world and, I don't know, do something important. She's a cocktail waitress who wants me to dress sluttier so that I can ‘finally get a man’.” She huffed a laugh, shaking her head. “We're just too different.”

“Double masters, huh?” Oliver asked after a moment of tense silence on Felicity's part. He almost regretted asking about her mom.

Felicity shot him a smile. Her blue eyes, striking surrounded by so much black makeup, were devoid of the tension he’d noticed a moment ago. “Computer science and cyber security, yeah.”

“I guess that explains the hacking into first class thing,” he laughed, picking up a pebble off the rocky slope and rolling it between his fingers. “I was going for business, but I dropped out. Though my father’s need for me to take over the family business someday probably means he'll ship me off to another school soon enough.”

“You don’t like it?” she asked.

“School?” Oliver asked, tipping his head to look at her with a teasing smile.

“Business,” she said.

“Not really. I don’t really know too much about it,” he admitted.

“That’s what school’s for!” she laughed, leaning her weight to the side so she could smack him in the shoulder.

“Well, I don’t really go to class much.” He grinned at her, before his smile faded. “And I didn’t have much say in my major, or anything about my future for that matter. According to my parents, I’ll get my MBA, marry Laurel and be running their company all before I’m 30.” He cocked his arm back, tossing the pebble he’d been playing with out into the canyon. He watched it fly for as long as he could until he lost it in the desert below.

“Do you want that life?” Her voice was quiet, but somehow still startled Oliver. Or maybe it was the question itself. When was the last time someone had actually asked him what he wanted?

“I guess,” he said after a moment. “I mean, it’s what everyone expects. I just don’t want it _right now_. I want to have fun, travel, hang out with my friends.”

“And cheat on your girlfriend with strangers,” Felicity added, oh so helpfully.

Oliver rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Not today,” Felicity joked. “Seriously, though, Oliver. If you don’t want the life your parents want for you… It’s okay. My mom didn’t want me to go to MIT because it was too far away, but it was the best decision I ever made.”

“And after you graduate? I take it you won’t be coming back here?”

“Oh, hell no. I’ll find a job at a tech company. Kord, Star Labs, Queen Consolidated. Somewhere big, where I can stretch my wings. Or maybe I’ll take a government job.” She grinned playfully up at him. “CIA, NSA…”

“Tapping people’s phones?”

Felicity shrugged. “Something like that.”

“You have it all planned out, huh?”

“Not all of it. I don’t know the details. The how’s or the why’s or the where’s of it all. But I know which direction I’m headed.” She checked her phone for the time. “South, back down this mountain so we can get you back to the airport on time.”

Oliver laughed. “It’s more than I have,” he said as he stood and they began carefully picking their way down the sandstone trail. “I’m directionless.”

“You’ll find one.”

“You know,” Oliver said, easily keeping up now that he'd had some practice, “you sort of lose your mocking edge after a few hours.”

She glared in Oliver's direction, blue eyes narrowed and clearly annoyed. “And you sort of lose your charming frat boy appeal when you're sweating like a pig.”

Oliver glanced down at his shirt, pulling it away from his body to see a damp, sweat stained triangle, right in the center of his chest.

Felicity skipped ahead, tossing a wink—and a wave of dark hair—over her shoulder as she went. “I think my mocking edge is still firmly in place, don't you?”

###

There was a briskness to the air by the time they got back to the car. The sun had started to set and Oliver knew he needed to get back to the airport if he wanted to make his flight, but he also wanted to spend more time with Felicity.

He considered switching his flight to tomorrow morning. He thought he could probably convince her to get a hotel room with him. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. He knew she was pissed about Laurel. He knew she was _right_ to be pissed about Laurel, but every time he glanced over at her all he could think was, _I don’t want to leave yet_. And he was hoping she felt the same way.

Oliver had never felt a connection this strong before, not even with Laurel and they’d been dating on and off for almost four years. Ever since he’d met Felicity this morning, ever since he’d seen her at the airport in Boston, he’d felt drawn to her. But, despite not wanting to leave, he knew whatever this connection was, it wasn’t meant to last.

Part of the reason he was able to open up to her was because she was a stranger. A stranger who didn’t know who he was, didn’t recognize him. Why should she? He hadn’t mentioned his last name. To Felicity, he was just Oliver from the plane. An attractive stranger she’d had sex with because she was mad at her ex-boyfriend. They were never meant to be more than that.

So, as much as Oliver wanted to keep this day going forever, he didn’t mention switching flights or booking hotel rooms on their way back to the city. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, watching her as the street lights illuminated her face in a steady rhythm and enjoying the comfortable silence of being with her. And when she pulled up at the airport and turned to him with a subdued smile, he memorized it. He memorized the way her dark hair contrasted against her pale skin, the way her lips tipped up just slightly at the corners, the way her blue eyes glinted in the bright lights spilling out of the terminal. He wanted to pull his cell phone out and take a picture, but thought that might be too intimate. He was still a stranger to her after all. They didn’t even know each other’s last names. Asking for a picture of her was probably weird. But…

Felicity got out of the car and he followed, waiting for her on the sidewalk as she came around the passenger’s side.

“You should have enough time to get through security, but I wouldn’t dawdle,” she said, looking toward the crowded entrance and biting her lip.

Before Oliver could think too much about how he wanted to be the one biting that lip, he turned to see a group passing by, one of the women tugging a red suitcase behind her.

“Hey,” Oliver said, catching the woman’s attention and pulling his phone out of his pocket. He held it out to her with a hopeful smile. “Will you take a picture of me and my friend, please?”

The woman looked surprised, but smiled, taking the phone from him.

Felicity’s eyebrows rose. “Seriously?”

“To remember the mysterious, hot girl from the plane and how she used me for revenge sex.” Oliver grinned.

The woman’s eyebrows furrowed at that, but she did hold the phone up, gesturing for them to get closer together. Oliver complied, wrapping his arm around Felicity's waist and, much to his delight, she threw a hand around his neck in return.

“Smile,” the woman said and, just as she went to snap the photo, Oliver slid the hand that was positioned on Felicity's waist down to land squarely on her ass and squeezed.

She snorted a laugh at the same time the flash went off and Oliver felt inordinately pleased. The woman handed the phone back before hurrying off to catch up with her group, and Oliver enlarged the photo to get a good look. The picture was perfect. Felicity, arm wrapped around Oliver's neck, grinning into the camera. And the look on Oliver's face… Well, it would always remind him exactly how he felt that day, even years in the future.

“So…” Felicity said, smiling and looking happier than she had all day. “I guess this is it.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “For now.”

Felicity laughed at that, moving closer to him so she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. “Still banking on this being an act of fate?”

“I'm just saying, you never know.” He smiled down at her. “It was nice meeting you, Felicity.”

Her smile softened and she leaned up, her hand wrapping around his neck again, and planted a kiss on his cheek before stepping back. “It was nice meeting you, too, Oliver,” she said softly as she pulled back.

With one last smile, she turned and got into her car. This time Oliver waved his fingers at her as she drove away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Nanowrimo's got me in the writing mood again, here's chapter 2. I apologize for the long wait between chapters on this story. And it'll probably be a while before I get to chapter 3, but in the meantime I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's long and possibly boring idk, but I really love it. I hope you do too :)

**2 Years Later…**

“Nonfat latte, extra sugar for Felicity!”

Felicity stepped up to the counter to collect her coffee, smiling at the barista.

“Thank you,” she said, grabbing the paper cup. “I have a really important interview in about twenty minutes and I needed a little pick-me up. I flew in from Boston this morning, so jet-lag, you know?”

She smiled again, but the barista just raised an eyebrow before going back to work.

“Right…” Felicity muttered to herself, turning to find a seat. She still had a few minutes to go over all the things she wanted to bring up in the interview. Thankfully, Jitters was located right across the street from Queen Consolidated so she didn't have to worry about being late.

She spotted an empty table near the windows and started to make her way over when someone bumped her shoulder, nearly causing her to spill her coffee.

“I'm so sorry.” A large hand shot into her line of sight, steadying her gently. “Are you alright?”

She looked up to tell him she was fine, but when she opened her mouth… nothing came out. The man, with his blue eyes and square jaw, was oddly familiar, but she didn’t know anyone in Starling City. And then those eyes met hers and she was transported back to a mountain top in Las Vegas, to those same blue eyes and square jaw smiling at her. She even remembered exactly how his stubble had felt against her neck in the bathroom of the airplane when they’d…

“Oliver?” The name was out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

For his part, Oliver didn’t look startled that a strange woman knew his name. He smiled down at her and, for a moment, she thought he might have recognized her. A strangely enthusiastic swarm of butterflies took flight in her stomach at the idea. Then he tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“I’m sorry,” he said, hand falling away from her elbow where he'd been touching her. “Do I know you?” 

Felicity’s cheeks heated in embarrassment. Of course, he didn't remember her. She'd only known him for a few hours, two years ago. Not to mention, she looked completely different from the last time she'd seen him.

“No!” she said quickly, before shaking her head. “I mean, not really. We met once... in Vegas. A couple years ago?”

Oliver blinked at her twice, before his mouth parted slightly and Felicity couldn’t help but hold her breath. That day in Vegas… it had meant a lot to her. If he didn’t remember…

“Felicity?” he asked, his eyes widening as he took her in, and she exhaled, the butterflies fluttering around once again.

“Hey,” she said, barely containing her grin.

“I… You… You look… _blonde_.” He ducked his head sheepishly and laughed. “I mean, different.”

And she did. Oh boy, did she look different than she had the first time they’d met. Back then she’d been all dark hair and black makeup, but that had all changed when— 

“Yeah,” she said, forcing a smile to pull herself back from her thoughts. “Needed a change.”

Running a hand over the top of her head nervously, she checked to make sure her ponytail was still firmly in place. It was slightly frizzy from all the humidity and moisture in Starling, but there wasn’t much she could do about that. She stood awkwardly as Oliver’s eyes ran over the purple blouse and black pant combo that she’d thought looked cute and practical when she’d landed this morning, but now...

“You look…” Oliver shook his head and smiled. “You look nice.”

 _Nice_. Well, not exactly what she was hoping for, but… Not that she was hoping for anything. No, Felicity was not in Starling because of Oliver, or because of any man. She was here for herself, to find a good job the way she’d planned. The way she’d once told Oliver she would while they were sitting hundreds of feet up a rocky trail looking down on the endless desert below. There was nothing for her back in Boston, nothing for her in Las Vegas. It was time she moved forward to bigger and better things the way she’d always dreamed.

So here she was in Starling City, running into the man she’d met once upon a time and who’d always been a bright light in her memories, despite the fact that he was essentially a stranger. She’d thought about that day, about him, only a handful of times in the past two years, but every time she did it was with a swell of affection.

“Thank you,” she said, laughing at herself when she realized she’d been staring. “Sorry, I'm a little out of it. Jet-lag.”

“Oh? Where are you coming from?” Oliver asked, genuine curiosity tugging at his features.

“Boston, actually.” She glanced over to see that the table she'd spotted earlier was still available. “Do you want to sit?” she asked, gesturing towards it. “I only have a few minutes, but if you wanted…”

“Yes,” Oliver agreed quickly, before smiling. “I don't have long either. I was just getting a coffee to tide me over until the end of the day, but I'd love to catch up.”

They made their way to the table, Oliver waving over a waitress once they were seated. He quickly ordered a large black coffee before turning back to Felicity.

“I honestly can’t believe you’re here. Or that you're blonde,” he said with a grin that she couldn't help but return. “Are you living here now or…?”

“No,” Felicity said, shaking her head. “Not yet, anyway. Or maybe not at all.” At his confused look she started again. “I have a few job interviews here today, and two more in Central City tomorrow.”

“Wow,” he laughed. “You aren’t wasting any time.”

“Well, it’s a long way from Boston and since Starling and Central City are relatively close, I figured two birds, one stone, you know?”

“So where are you interviewing?” he asked.

“I had an interview at Kord Enterprises earlier. I think it went well, but I wasn’t that impressed with their company. Kord wasn’t my first pick anyway, though. I just figured while I was here I might as well check them out.” She took a large swill of coffee, letting the caffeine chase away her jetlag and focus her thoughts. “Queen Consolidated is starting an Applied Sciences division that I’m interested in. My interview’s soon, so that’s why I was hanging out over here. Then I have an interview at Merlyn Global after that.” She took another sip of coffee and smiled at him. “You’re dressed nice,” she said, noting his expensive gray suit. “What are you doing nowadays?”

“Oh, uh…” He glanced out the window, before looking back at her. “You remember how I told you my dad really wanted me to work for the family business?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Well…” He raised an eyebrow then looked back out the window, directly at the office building across the street. “I do.”

“You…” Her brows furrowed, confused, as she followed his gaze to the entrance of Queen Consolidated. “Your family business…? You’re…?” 

“Yeah, sorry,” he said sheepishly, before holding out a hand. “Oliver Queen.”

She stared at his hand for a moment before looking up at him with wide eyes. “You’re Oliver _Queen_? Like the Queen Consolidated Queen’s? That’s your family and that—” she gestured out the window with a gulp as her fuzzy brain began to process what he was saying “—is your family’s company, where you work... because you own it.”

Oliver laughed and she shook her head, staring at him incredulously as the waitress dropped off Oliver’s coffee with a flirty smile. When he didn’t react—didn’t even take his eyes off Felicity—the girl returned, dejected, to the front counter.

“You told me your dad flew planes!” Felicity hissed once the waitress was gone. “I thought that meant he had a private airline or a shipping company or something. I didn’t know you were talking about Robert Queen!”

“You remember that?” Oliver smiled, but Felicity barely noticed, too caught up in the ramifications of his confession.

“I can’t believe this… I slept with Oliver Queen. Oh, god,” she realized, her eyes going wide. “I _slept_ with Oliver Queen.”

Oliver’s face fell a little at her tone. “What’s so wrong with that?” he asked, his frown ever so slightly offended.

“Oh, nothing!” she assured him quickly, realizing how insulting that probably sounded. “Nothing, it’s just… you know, not very ethical to sleep with your boss. Or your possibly future boss’s boss’s boss’s son, as the case may be.”

Oliver smiled, blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “I think it'll be okay, seeing as how we were both just kids at the time.”

“It was only two years ago,” she said, quirking an eyebrow at him teasingly. “And how much older are you than me?”

“I didn't do my growing up until much later.” He sighed, pulling his mug of coffee closer. “If at all.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.” At his questioning look she blushed, shaking her head. “Not… that I looked into you or anything, but when I researched Queen Consolidated your name did pop up a few… dozen… times. I didn't read any of it, obviously, or I wouldn’t be so surprised right now, but… you have made plenty of headlines, haven’t you?”

“I’m trying to do better,” Oliver muttered into his coffee.

And she could see that he was. It wasn’t just the hair, now cropped close to his scalp, or the expensive business suit. There was something about _him_ that she didn’t remember from Vegas. Granted, it had been years and they’d only known each other for a few hours, but still, there was something more mature about his countenance, about the way he spoke. She realized with a start that he hadn’t hit on her once since they bumped into each other. Not that she would have minded.

She remembered how comfortable she’d felt with Oliver all those years ago and realized she still felt it now. It was something she hadn't felt with many people in her life, not even her own mother, so it stuck out. Thinking back, what they'd had for that one day was probably crazy. Cooper was, arguably, the closest she'd ever been to a person and he'd betrayed her, then abandoned her in the worst way possible. Her mother just… She just didn't get it. Always urging Felicity to _get a man_ or to _wear more flattering clothes, baby, you look so pretty when you dress nice_.

With Oliver, for that ever brief amount of time, he'd simply wanted her. Wanted her body—ugly cargo pants and all—and wanted her conversation. They'd talked for hours, shared fears and failures and flaws. She would chalk it all up to him wanting to get back in her pants, but he'd never made a move after the time on the plane. He'd asked questions, kept her talking—which wasn't very hard—and then he'd gone. Back to the airport, back to Starling, back to his _apparent_ life as a billionaire heir to a Fortune 500 company. He'd never asked for sex, she'd freely given it up before she’d even known him. All he'd asked for was… her time.

Felicity related to that—to just wanting someone's attention—so acutely that her chest started to ache. Even if it was just for a night, she knew that Oliver could take the loneliness away, the same way he had before. And if she got the job at Queen Consolidated, maybe…

“Are you seeing anyone right now?” Felicity asked, hesitantly, before sipping her coffee.

Oliver’s gaze flicked to the table before coming back up to meet hers, regret flashing in his eyes. “I'm back with Laurel, yeah.”

Felicity deflated at that, which was crazy because…  she barely knew him. And really, their relationship to this point had mostly revolved around sex and that wasn’t going to change if they had another night together. She shouldn't feel a pang in her chest just because she couldn’t have sex with him again. She'd probably hyped it up in her memories, anyway.

“I remember how mad you were last time…” Oliver explained.

“I wasn't mad.” Off Oliver's look, Felicity rolled her eyes. “Okay, I was mad. But really, why date someone you're just going to cheat on?”

Oliver glanced away again, guiltily, and Felicity sighed.

 _Guess some things haven’t changed_ , she thought. Well, it was for the best anyway. She didn’t want to sleep with someone who cheated on his girlfriend. And she definitely didn't need to be involved with someone like that. Not that she’d been thinking of getting involved with him. She wasn’t, she just… It could have been nice, to be able to connect with someone here in Starling if she was offered a job.

Her alarm beeped, the one she’d set to remind her when she needed to head across the street for her interview.

“That’s my ten minute warning,” she said, silencing the alarm and taking a last sip of coffee before she gathered her bag and started to stand.

“If you wait for me to pay I’ll walk you over,” he offered, getting to his feet and abandoning his barely touched coffee.

“Oh, no. It’s okay. I probably won’t be much company anyway. I get a little nervous right before interviews,” she explained, gesturing to her head. “Lots of things going on up here.”

“Well, I could show you where to go—”

“I already checked in with Human Resources, so I know where I’m going.” She chucked her coffee cup in the nearby trash can, before turning back to him with a grateful smile. “Oliver, it’s okay, really. Finish your coffee and enjoy your break.”

He looked disappointed, but nodded. “Can you stop by my office after the interview? We only got to talk for a few minutes.”

“I can’t,” she said apologetically. “I still have my interview at Merlyn Global, remember?”

Oliver sighed, his shoulders slumping as his eyes fixed on the floor between them. “Is this about Laurel?”

“What? No, of course not,” Felicity said, though he wasn’t quite as off target as she was acting. “No, I just have these interviews. They’re really important to me.”

“Okay, so how about drinks after?” Oliver asked, clearly making one last ditch effort. “I’ll pick you up at Merlyn Global after the interview. We can catch up and you can relax a little.”

“I…” she started, but the crestfallen expression on his face stopped her in her tracks. It wasn’t that Felicity didn’t want to get drinks with him, she did. It was how much she did that was the problem. He was dating someone and he hadn’t changed that much since Vegas. He was still a cheating bastard and still unavailable. But she was in a strange city, all by herself. What was she going to do? Find a Big Belly Burger and eat all alone in her hotel room, worrying about whether she blew her interviews? Oddly enough, that didn’t sound as appealing as drinks with Oliver. “Okay,” she agreed. “My interview should be over by five, but I’ll give you my number in case.”

He handed his phone over quickly, beaming at her as she punched in her contact info then sent herself a text so she’d have his, too.

“Okay,” she smiled, handing him back the phone, a swell of excitement bubbling in her chest despite herself. “I’ll see you later, I guess.”

“See you then,” he said, an endearingly goofy grin taking over his face as she turned to leave.

She took one last, surreptitious look and caught him watching her, smile still in place as he waved at her through the large front window of Jitters. Suppressing her own goofy smile, she turned back to Queen Consolidated, her possibly—hopefully—future place of employment. If, that was, she could pull her thoughts away from Oliver Queen long enough to start thinking about things that actually mattered, like her career.

Her phone dinged just as she was getting on the elevator and her heart thumped when she saw Oliver’s name flash across the screen.

_Good luck! But from what I remember about you I don’t think you’ll need it ;)_

She leaned against the back wall of the elevator, grinning down at her phone, and all she could think was, _Oh, boy. I’m in trouble_.

###

Oliver tried to shake the giddiness he’d been feeling ever since bumping into Felicity earlier. It was hard though, especially considering that he was having drinks with her later. Not to mention, he’d also gotten her last name and phone number this time around.

Felicity Smoak.

He was only slightly embarrassed to say he’d googled her the second he’d gotten back to his office. There was surprisingly little to find. No Facebook, Twitter or any social media as far as he could tell. No photos either. The only article he was able to find was about her coming in second in some science competition, which was pretty cool, but he gave up reading once the article started detailing the technical aspects of the winning projects.

Despite his interest, he had to admit there was very little information to glean off the internet about Felicity Smoak. Besides, he actually did have some work he was supposed to be doing. Exiting out of the browser, he opened up his email and got to work.

He was just finishing up an email to his father about a potential client he’d managed to cajole into a meeting, when the sound of heels on tile caught his attention. His head snapped up just in time to see Laurel smile at his assistant before walking past her and directly into his office.

“Hey, stranger,” she teased. She was dressed in a pantsuit, her long brown hair perfectly curled over her shoulders, which meant she’d come straight from CNRI where she worked as a legal aid attorney. “How was the weekend with Tommy? Is he feeling better?”

Tamping down the ever present pang of guilt, he smiled, getting up to greet her with a quick peck on the cheek. “Much better.”

“I didn’t know he felt so strongly for Carrie,” she said, putting her bag down on his desk. “But I’m glad you were both able to take a couple days off to help him through the breakup.” She smiled up at him lovingly, placing her hands on his chest and leaning close. “You’re such a good friend sometimes.”

The pang increased until it was more like a knot twisting in his gut, but he ignored it. “What would he do without me?” he teased.

Admittedly, telling Laurel he was with Tommy this weekend—on a guys trip to Coast City to see the Rockets face off against the Angels in order to help him get his mind off of Carrie Cutter, a girl he’d recently broken up with—was not going to win Oliver any best boyfriend awards. Even though he’d been trying to do better ever since they’d gotten back together, Oliver still found it far too easy to fall into old habits, and letting Laurel believe that he’d just wanted to console his best friend after a messy breakup was an easy pass to a free weekend.

The truth was, Carrie was a little bit of a stalker and Tommy was lucky to be rid of her—his words, not Oliver’s—but Oliver’s ex, McKenna, had started texting him again recently and when she’d invited him to come to Coast City for a visit he’d found himself saying yes. Tommy’s breakup was a convenient cover, even if his friend _had_ expressed his disappointment when he’d realized Oliver hadn’t invited him on the trip solely to see a baseball game.

And Oliver did feel horrible. He’d lied to Tommy, lied to Laurel, even lied to McKenna about being single. Yet, he’d done it anyway. He always seemed to do it anyway, even though he always felt bad about it afterwards. He supposed it was like Felicity said in Vegas: he was a cheating bastard and he’d always been one. The fact that he felt remorse did nothing to curtail his actions.

“So I was thinking we could have a quiet dinner in, since we haven’t seen each other in a while?” Laurel tugged at his tie playfully. “We could order some Thai and just curl up on the couch with a bottle of wine? And maybe you could bring over some clothes and finally put that drawer I gave you to good use.”

Oliver fought not to stiffen at her words. She’d been trying to get him to move his stuff into her apartment for a couple months now and he’d finally agreed to keeping some stuff in a drawer. He just hadn’t gotten around to actually using it yet, and tonight was definitely not the night he planned to start.

“I wish I could, Laurel,” he said regretfully. “But I actually ran into an old friend from Boston at Jitters earlier and I promised to take them out for drinks tonight. They're only in Starling for the day, interviewing for jobs, or else I would reschedule…”

He watched her face fall, the disappointment keen in her eyes.

He didn't know why he felt so guilty about having drinks. He was actually telling Laurel the truth for once, even if he was omitting a few details, like how he and his “friend” had met and the fact that she was, you know, a _she_. But for some reason it felt like the biggest lie he'd ever told. And he wasn't even doing it to cheat. He knew, without a doubt, that sex was off the table tonight, and, honestly, he wasn't sure that wanted to have sex with Felicity anyway.

Well, no. He did _want_ to have sex with her, a lot, but he knew there was no way she’d ever agree to have sex while he was dating Laurel and he just hadn’t been able to bring himself to lie about it when she’d brought it up. He’d remembered exactly how disgusted she’d been with him in Vegas. The thought of her looking at him like that again...

“That's okay,” Laurel said eventually, lips pouting prettily as she hugged his waist. “Your friend’s only in town for one day.”

He bent to press a kiss to her nose. “I'd rather be with you.”

Correction: _that_ was the biggest lie he'd ever told. But it was the right thing to say. Laurel smiled up at him sweetly, stroking the sides of his dress shirt before pulling back.

“I guess I'll just see you tomorrow?” she asked, picking up her bag and staring at him expectantly.

“Of course,” he said, with a reassuring smile. “And I’ll bring a few things over for that drawer, it that’s alright?”

Laurel grinned blindingly, leaning in to press an, “I love you,” against his lips. “Text me when you get home so I know you're safe.”

“Sure,” he promised, waving her goodbye as he watched her leave. Her clicking heels echoed after her as she went, all the way to the elevators outside his office.

It wasn't lost on him that he hadn't reciprocated her _I love you_.

### 

“You certainly have a very impressive resume, Ms. Smoak,” Mr. Villanueva said, looking over her paperwork one last time.

After running into Oliver she thought she'd be distracted, but the moment she sat down for her interview all thoughts of Oliver vanished. She was able to answer all of the questions asked of her, and she even managed to ask some good ones of her own. Unfortunately, QC’s Applied Sciences division was still in the early stages, so she’d met with a representative from HR instead. The woman, Ms. Jones, was very nice and extremely helpful. She promised that Felicity would be considered for a spot in Applied Sciences, but since it was such a new department and so few positions were available that, in the meantime, she'd work on finding her a spot in another department. Not exactly what Felicity had been hoping for, but she understood. Ms. Jones said that next year Queen Consolidated was planning an expansion to the department, including a brand new building, and more than likely she'd be reconsidered then. Patience wasn't exactly one of Felicity’s virtues, but it was her dream job, so she'd wait if that's what it took.

Overall the interviews had gone well or, at least, she thought so. Especially at Queen Consolidated, but she'd hit it off with Mr. Villanueva, head of IT at Merlyn Global, as well. Which was why the man smiled and told her they would be calling to let her know their decision by the end of the week.

“Your chances are good, though,” he said, shaking her hand and walking her to the door. “Are you interviewing anywhere else?”

“I've checked out Kord and Queen Consolidated already and tomorrow I have a couple interviews in Central City.”

“Good, good,” the man said, tugging his office door open for her. “I'm sure the offers will be rolling in for someone with your skillset. I hope you sign on with us, but if not I'll look forward to seeing your work in the future. I predict great things from you, Ms. Smoak.”

Well, Merlyn Global might not have been her first choice, she smiled to herself as she left the office and made her way down to the lobby, but they now had a check in their column from flattery alone.

Once she entered the lobby she barely had time to feel nervous about her meeting with Oliver before she spotted him through the glass doors. He was leaning against a black town car, fidgeting nervously while he spoke to a man that she assumed was his driver. The second she saw him it was like all of her nerves dissipated. Okay, well maybe _all her nerves_ was a stretch, but mostly she just felt excited. Sure, he had a girlfriend and this was _so_ not a date, but… she was wired from her interviews and a drink would be nice.

Oliver perked up, stepping away from the car as soon as she pushed through the lobby doors. “Felicity,” he greeted with a wide smile.

“Hey,” she said, stopping a few feet from him, unsure of the proper protocol in this situation. Did she hug him? Shake his hand? She felt like they were on hugging terms, but maybe it was better if they didn’t, given the circumstances.

Oliver didn’t seem as put off by the idea of touching her. He placed a hand on her elbow and guided her closer to the car and the man he’d been speaking to,

“Felicity, this is John Diggle, my bodyguard. Dig, this is Felicity Smoak.”

John Diggle was, well, the word huge came to mind. She’d deduced he was tall from inside the lobby, but standing next to him she couldn’t help but stare at the sheer width of his shoulders and arms. The sleeves of his suit jacket stretched taut over his biceps and Felicity wondered for a moment just what he must look like shirtless. Good grief, no wonder he was a bodyguard.

“Best in the business, too,” John said, a teasing lilt to his voice and she jerked her head up to see him smiling at her.

“Oh,” she sighed, one hand coming up to press against her forehead while she slammed her eyes shut. “How much of that did I say out loud?”

“Enough that I’m feeling a little jealous,” Oliver laughed, still touching her elbow lightly.

“Don’t,” she said quickly, then turned wide eyes up at John. “I mean, you are a very attractive man, but there’s no reason to be jealous.” She looked back at Oliver. “Of anything. Because we’re just friends getting a drink to catch up. No jealousy required,” she said, glancing back to John, “between any of us.”

Both men squinted down at her. Oliver’s brow furrowed in confusion, while John seemed thoroughly amused by her ramble.

“Ugh,” she groaned. “Just forget I said anything.”

Oliver studied her for a moment, before guiding her to the back door. “I don’t remember you being quite this… talkative... last time,” he said, opening the door for her.

“You must have caught me on a good day, then,” she muttered slipping into the plush leather backseat. “My brain to mouth filter is usually on the fritz.”

Oliver smiled, making sure she was settled before closing the door and then slipping into the car on the other side. John Diggle sat up front, giving her a small smile through the rearview mirror, before pulling out into traffic.

It took them ten minutes to pull up to the front doors of a trendy looking bar and grill. John exited the car quickly, opening the door for Felicity while Oliver rounded the car to meet her.

“This place is excellent,” he said with a bright smile, offering his elbow. She hooked her hand through his arm, grinning a little at his gallantry. He certainly hadn't acted so chivalrous when she'd first met him. “They have a great selection of wine.”

Felicity was mid-way through an internal sigh of contentment—because _ooh_ _wine_ —when she realized that John wasn't following them.

“What about Mr. Diggle?” she asked as Oliver steered her towards the door. “You’re just gonna make him wait in the car? That’s rude.”

Oliver blinked at her in slight confusion before grinning. “Believe me, Dig loves having the time away from me.”

“It’s true.” She turned back to see John smiling at her from beside the passenger door. “I should honestly thank you for taking him off my hands for awhile. But thank you, Ms. Smoak,” he said, tilting his head graciously, “for thinking of me.”

“Felicity,” she corrected him with a smile. “And if you’re sure…”

“I’m sure, Felicity,” he said. “And you can call me Dig. All my friends do.” Felicity grinned and John waved her forward. “Now go on. Oliver’s been looking forward to this all day. He could barely sit still on the ride over to Merlyn Global.”

Oliver’s cheeks flushed pink at his bodyguard’s words, but he laughed, shaking his head. “Come on,” he said, finally ushering her inside. 

The restaurant was impeccably designed; all aged brickwork and sleekly polished wood. Oliver greeted the hostess with a smile before leading Felicity to the bar.

“Do you come here often?” Felicity asked, taking a seat on one of the bar stools before cringing. “That sounded like a bad pickup line.” 

Oliver laughed. “I come here with my sister sometimes for lunch,” he said. “Their glazed salmon is her favorite.”

“That does sound good,” she agreed before noticing the bartender approaching them. “Uh, I know I agreed to get drinks, but I probably should have mentioned earlier that I'm only twenty.”

Oliver laughed. “Don't worry about it. Trust me, no one will card you as long as you're with me.”

“One of the perks of being a billionaire, huh?” Felicity grinned at the way Oliver winked in reply. “Also probably one of the reasons you made so many headlines in your youth.”

“Probably,” Oliver agreed with a smile before turning to the bartender to order their drinks—red wine for her and a beer for himself. The bartender nodded, leaving to get their drinks, and Felicity turned back to Oliver.

“So, you never told me,” she said. “What do you do for Queen Consolidated?”

It was one of many questions she wanted to ask him. And it seemed like the easiest place to start, considering the other topics included Laurel and his father.

“I'm really just another face for the company,” he said, fiddling with a bowl of pretzels the bartender had placed on the bar for them. “My dad has me dealing with smaller clients, talking to investors. I'm basically just shadowing him until he feels I'm ready to take over.”

“Wow,” Felicity breathed. “That's…”

“Terrifying,” Oliver supplied, his eyes widening dramatically.

“I was going to say a lot of responsibility,” she clarified, “but I can imagine it's probably a little scary. Especially since you told me you weren't ready to do all this the last time we spoke.” She watched as he nodded, popping a pretzel in his mouth. “What changed since then?”

Oliver sighed. “He threatened to cut me off if I didn't take the job. After I dropped out of Harvard, he got me a spot at Columbia.” Off of Felicity’s impressed look, he grimaced. “Where I proceeded to get kicked out for not showing up for class. Ever.”

“Ever?” Felicity repeated incredulously, as the bartender placed their drinks in front of them before disappearing to deal with other patrons.

“I was in New York,” Oliver explained, taking a sip of his beer. “Do you know how many parties I got invited to?”

Felicity shook her head, fingering the stem of her wine glass. “So then, what? Your dad just dropped you into QC with no experience?”

“He said if I wasn't going to study then I needed to work.” Oliver shrugged. “And I’m pretty good at it. It’s mostly just giving people your time, making them feel important. I don’t handle any of the financial or… science stuff, so it’s not bad.” 

Felicity laughed. “That _science stuff_ is kind of the whole point, though.”

“You’d be surprised,” Oliver said, reaching for another pretzel. “I’ve sat in on enough meetings with the board to know that the science is only a means to an end for them. They’re more concerned with our bottom line.”

“That’s… kind of sad,” Felicity admitted, taking a sip of wine. “I mean, I understand it’s a business first and foremost, but the things that a company like Queen Consolidated could create, the good they could do with all those resources…”

“Not really how it works,” Oliver said. “I mean, we give to charity. And Laurel’s always inviting us to these fundraisers her company has to help people in need, but…”

Felicity jumped on the opening he presented her. “And how are things with Laurel?” she asked, taking another sip.

Oliver scrubbed a hand down his face, before eyeing her. “I’ve been trying, it’s just… It’s hard.”

“How hard can it be to just keep it in your—” she started, before shaking her head. “You know what? I’m sorry. This is none of my business.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I actually kind of want to talk about it,” he assured her. “Truth is, I have no idea what I’m doing with Laurel or why I still do it. It’s just… that’s the way it’s always been with us.” He took a long pull of his beer, then sighed. “Old habits, I guess.”

Felicity fiddled with her glass, sliding it back and forth across the wooden surface of the bar while she studied him. “Don’t you think maybe she might want more than that? That someday _you_ might want more than that?”

“I know and I _was_ trying. After our last split, when we decided to give it another try, I swore to myself I was going to do better. I don’t like hurting her, but...”

“But?” she prompted.

Oliver grimaced. “I don’t know. All of her friends are either married or engaged and she's talking about moving in together and weddings and houses and kids… it's just too much,” he said, hanging his head. “I'm only twenty-four.”

“Have you told her that?”

“I don't know how,” he admitted quietly. “She gets this look on her face whenever I start to explain, like she's disappointed in me. Like I'm not following her script of what our life should be like. It's hard to tell her no.”

“So you just cheat on her instead?” She could feel herself starting to lose her temper. She honestly wasn’t even sure why. It wasn’t like last time, when she’d inadvertently been dragged into the middle of his messy relationship. This had nothing to do with her, yet she couldn’t suppress the wave of disappointment she felt in him.

“It's not ideal, Felicity, I know. I’m...” He looked up at her with a shrug. “There’s just so much pressure when I’m with her. I don't want to get married. I don't want kids. Not now, anyway. Maybe not ever. I have things that I want to do and it’s really hard when they’re so out of sync with what she wants.”

“Things? Oh yeah, like partying with your friends, right?” she said, recalling a conversation they’d had years ago. Her tone was maybe snarkier than necessary, but she just didn’t get what his problem was. He had someone who loved him, who wanted to be with him, and all he wanted was to get as far away from her as possible.

“No.” He shook his head. The look on her face combined with her tone must have given her feelings away, because he leaned down a little to meet her eyes. “I swear, it’s not that.”

“Then what?”

Oliver blinked in surprise, before narrowing his eyes. “You really want to know?”

“I asked, didn't I?”

Oliver hesitated, fidgeting with his beer. “Only if you promise you won't laugh or tell me it's stupid. I have enough people saying that already.”

She tilted her head, wondering what on earth he could possibly want to do that would make her laugh. “I won't laugh. I promise.”

The way Oliver glared told her exactly what he thought of her promise.

“I swear,” she said again, grinning. “Unless, you know, it's really _really_ dumb and then all bets are off.”

“Mhmm.” He nodded his head suspiciously, but gave her a tiny smile and an eyeroll. “I never wanted to be a part of my family’s business.”

“Too much pressure,” Felicity interjected sagely and Oliver laughed.

“Something like that, yeah, but I’m not completely devoid of ambition. I… I want to start a club,” he said, nervously rubbing his thumb and forefinger together.

Felicity cocked her head to the side. “Like a bridge club?”

Oliver blinked, then smiled when he noticed the wicked glint in her eyes. “Smartass. No, not like a bridge club. Tommy and I—my best friend, Tommy—we were at this nightclub about six months ago and we just started talking about how we'd run the place if it were ours. How we'd make it better... It stuck with me.”

“Are you sure this isn't just about partying with your friend,” she said, pursing her lips, “because it sounds like—”

“I swear, it's not. Honestly, nightclubs aren't really my thing anymore. But I know what people like me want from them, and I… I like the idea of making something that's mine. Not my family’s, but mine.”

“So why don't you?” she asked after another sip of wine. “You've obviously got enough cash to get it up and running. And your name is already basically synonymous with drunken shenanigans, right?” She shrugged, then chuckled. “Just don't name it Queen’s. That will not bring in the demographics you're looking to cater to.”

Oliver grinned. “That's exactly what Tommy said.” He looked down at his beer before meeting her eyes and when he did his smile was gone, replaced by something much more serious. “You don't think it's a bad idea?”

Felicity bit her lip, taking in his hesitance. How many people had told Oliver Queen he couldn’t do the things he dreamed? No one had ever told Felicity she wasn’t good enough or smart enough or that she couldn’t do something if she set her mind to it. Her mother hadn’t liked that Felicity was moving halfway across the country to attend MIT, but she’d never told her she couldn’t or even that she shouldn’t. And Felicity had only been sixteen at the time. Oliver was twenty-four. Did his friends and family really think so little of him?

“It's a legitimate career move,” she said seriously and felt that familiar rush of affection when his hesitance melted away and he looked at her like she held all the answers. “Probably a good one for someone with your resources. It's not like people won't pay to party with a billionaire. What did your friend Tommy say?”

“At the time he was into it, but we were also like six shots deep. I haven't brought it up again.”

“So who's been telling you it's a bad idea?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“I asked my dad about it, and Laurel. Dad basically laughed in my face, and Laurel doesn't see me as the entrepreneurial type, apparently. They think I should keep my job at QC until I'm ready to move up the corporate ladder.”

“Well…” Felicity floundered for something to say that wouldn’t be inappropriate, but she was angry. Surprisingly so. How dare they crush his dream! No wonder he’d never strived for much. The people in his life treated him like a joke, of course he’d assume they were right. Finally, she gave up on being appropriate and just said, “Fuck them.”

Oliver's mouth dropped open in astonishment and she raised a hand, apologetically.

“I mean, no offense, but… fuck them. You don't need anyone's permission to want something, Oliver. And you don't need their permission to go for it. If you really want to start a nightclub with your best friend, then do it. So what if it doesn’t match up with their plans for you.”

He glanced down, shaking his head. “But I don't know how—”

“Do you have a location in mind?”

“Yeah,” he said, excitement lighting his face despite his insecurity. “It's an old QC warehouse in the Glades. It was shut down a few years ago, but it would be perfect. It’s large enough and has a really cool industrial feel that could be unique.”

“Do you have any marketing ideas?” 

“Tommy’s really good at that stuff. He said hyping it on social media would be easy. In the beginning, at least. Then we'd probably have to come up with different nightly draws, maybe some ad campaigns.”

Felicity raised her eyebrows, pointedly. “Sounds to me like you already have most of it figured out.”

“It's more complicated than that,” he said, shaking his head.

“It really isn't,” she assured him. “You have the money, the resources, the idea. And it seems like you've got the drive, so what's stopping you?”

Oliver’s tongue snaked out, licking his lips, before he lifted his beer in another long pull.

“What's the worst that happens?” she asked, her hand falling on his bicep. “You fail? You end up back a QC? How is that any worse than where you're at now?”

“No one thinks I can do it,” he said quietly, placing his beer back on the bar. “My dad told me I’d be throwing away good money on a hobby that I’d be bored with in a month. And I know he’s wrong. I really do want this, I just…” He shook his head. “If I fail then he’s right about me.”

“No, he’s not. It just means you go back to the drawing board and try again. Failure isn't the end of the world, Oliver,” she said, gently squeezing his arm. “We all fail. Your dad has failed. Laurel has failed. _I’ve_ failed. The trick is to not stop trying. All we can do is keep moving forward.”

Oliver watched her for a few moments, like he was considering her advice, before he turned back to his drink.

“So what did you fail at?” he asked, knowingly. “What are you moving forward from?”

Caught off guard by his question, she shook her head. “Nothing. Just… Nothing.”

“Mmhm,” he said, but gave her a skeptical look before taking another swig of beer. 

“I didn’t fail at anything, I just… It’s time to move on from Boston, the way I told you I would.” Her brow furrowed as she remembered their conversation, before glaring at him accusingly. “I told you I was thinking of taking a job at Queen Consolidated after I graduated and you didn’t think to mention your family owned it?”

Thankfully, Oliver didn’t question her change of subject or, if he did, he decided to roll with it.

“In my defense,” he said, raising his hands placatingly, “you didn’t even want to know my _first_ name.”

Felicity grunted, still unhappy, but she had no argument. She remembered how annoyed she’d been when he kept following her around, sharing information about himself. All she’d wanted from him was meaningless sex during a boring plane ride. Looking at him now, she was suddenly glad that she hadn’t gotten what she’d wanted that day. Somehow, despite herself, she’d managed to make a friend.

Oliver smiled, looking down again—and how did he manage to look so adorable when he did that?

“Honestly, it was nice to spend time with someone who didn’t know me or all of the stupid things I’ve done,” he admitted. “I know I have nothing to complain about, but… sometimes it’s hard to tell if people really like _me_ or just my name.”

“I liked you,” she said, then laughed at his incredulous look. “Not at first, but later! Later I liked you.”

“On our hike.” He grinned and Felicity nodded. “That was nice. This is nice,” he said, gesturing to their drinks. “It’s nice to be able to talk to someone.”

“You know,” Felicity said pointedly, “if you tried opening up like this to the people in your life your relationships might improve.”

Oliver grunted and finished off his beer, before turning to look at her consideringly. “Hey, since you took me hiking last time, how about I take you somewhere important to me?”

Felicity squinted skeptically. “Where?”

Oliver beamed, throwing a couple of bills on the bartop and grabbing her hand. “It’s a surprise.”

###

“You’re either taking me to your potential nightclub or you two are a serial killer team taking me out here to make it look like a mugging gone wrong,” Felicity said, blue eyes flicking between Oliver and Diggle up in the front seat.

“You know,” Oliver said as they pulled into an empty parking lot next to a rundown warehouse, “trying to surprise a genius isn’t really all that fun.” 

Felicity grinned, then went back to looking out the window.

After ordering some dinner—if they were going on an adventure they needed sustenance, he reasoned—Oliver had asked Dig to drive them over to the Glades to check out the warehouse. Dig had raised his eyebrows at the request—abandoned buildings in the Glades weren’t Oliver Queen’s usual scene—but drove them over without question, parking in the side alley near the entrance. Oliver hopped out of the car, bags of takeout in hand, eager to show the place off to Felicity.

Back at the bar, when she’d said his idea for a club sounded like a good career move, one that he could actually make work, he’d felt an excitement take hold of him that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Not since he and Tommy had initially come up with the idea, but they’d been skirting the edge of complete drunkenness at the time and, after asking his dad a few questions about what it might cost to renovate the warehouse and his response, Oliver hadn’t felt like bringing it up again. Even if Tommy had been serious, they were both still a couple of screwups who’d never run a business before in their lives. Felicity’s confidence had sparked a renewed interest in him, though, and he wanted to hear if she thought the rest of his plan was any good.

“This would be the entrance,” he said, taking her hand and helping her up the crumbling cement stairs. “We’d have this area roped off. And a big neon sign right there.”

He gestured around, picturing it in his head. Dozens of people standing behind a rope, waiting to enter the club, pulsing music filtering out into the night air. All he’d have to do to the outside is fix the steps and give the place a fresh coat of paint.

Dig moved to the door as Oliver was describing things, pulling it open and making sure there wasn’t anyone inside. Normally Oliver would have rolled his eyes at that—Dig might be his bodyguard, but Oliver was capable of holding his own if the situation called for it—but with Felicity there the last thing he wanted was for some drug addict to accost them while he was showing her around. 

There was no electricity, but it was still bright enough out that it wasn’t hard to see. Dust particles drifted in and out of beams of light above their heads, illuminating the dark warehouse. Felicity spun in a circle, taking it all in with wide eyes. 

“So this place is…” she trailed off, gesturing to the piles of rusted junk lying around.

“A dump,” Oliver finished for her with a laugh. Finding a nice spot in the middle of the room, Oliver placed the bags down and pulled out a tablecloth he’d requested with the meal. The waiter had given him a strange look, but once Oliver pulled out a hundred dollar bill he’d run off to find an extra.

“I was going to say cozy,” Felicity teased, looking around at the barren concrete and rusty steel beams.

“It will be,” Oliver said, getting comfortable on the tablecloth and pulling out the food. “Once you get over here.”

She snorted, but dropped down beside him, already pulling containers open to see what was inside.

“If you don't need me for anything, I'm gonna call Carly,” Dig said, gesturing to the door.

“Oh, yeah. We’re fine,” Oliver said. “Tell her I said hi.”

Dig nodded, then slipped through the doors and back into the parking lot.

Oliver smiled at Felicity's curious look. “His girlfriend,” he explained, then his brows furrowed as he added, “and his brother's widow.”

“Oh.” The look that crossed her face was full of sympathy as she looked after Dig, then she pursed her lips thoughtfully. “That’s complicated.”

“Yeah,” Oliver agreed, picking up a container and a plastic fork to dig in.

“Speaking of complicated,” she said as she glanced around the empty space. “What are you going to do with this place?”

“The bar would be over there,” he said, using his fork to point out a spot along the side wall. “This,” he said gesturing around them, “would be the dance floor. And over there would be the DJ booth. Maybe raised, so it looks over the crowd. I know a few celebrity DJ’s that I could probably get…”

They were finished with their food by the time he'd described his vision for the place. He’d even stopped a few times to jot some notes down on his phone. It felt good to talk about this with someone who believed he could actually do it. They'd brainstormed a few of the finer points, like what food to serve at the bar. Felicity was very pro-French fry while Oliver believed nachos were definitely the way to go.

“I think you've got something here,” she told him with a smile. “If you take a chance and put the effort in, I think this place could become a hit.”

Oliver wasn’t normally one to blush, but something about her good opinion made his cheeks heat. He cleaned up the plastic containers, placing them back in the bag, before turning to face her. She was stretched out on the tablecloth, leaning back on her palms and looking up at the rafters as the last rays of daylight filtered in through the windows.

She was so beautiful. He remembered her being beautiful, but this was different. She was softer, more ethereal as a blonde. At times he could hardly believe she was the same girl he’d met in Vegas, but then he’d notice something, a tiny detail like the industrial bar through the top of her right ear. When he’d noticed it earlier he’d been thrown back to the plane where they’d met, to the obscene sounds she’d made when he’d wrapped his lips around it, flicking it with his tongue.

He swallowed thickly, shaking off the wave of lust desperately trying to wash over him.

“You’re our first guest," he said, gesturing around to the empty warehouse. "We need to commemorate the occasion."

He pulled out his phone and opened the camera app. Felicity laughed, taking the phone and holding it out in front of them. Leaning in close, she snapped a photo of the two of them, one she declared as terrible, which led to a few minutes of laughing and trying out different silly faces, until Felicity was satisfied that the lighting was right and that neither of them had a double chin.

“You never told me,” he said softly, once she’d settled back into her spot beside him, “what you were running from in Boston.”

He'd noticed the way her eyes went wide back at the bar when he’d asked and he’d bided his time, waiting to see if she’d open up. Figuring their time together was winding down, he might as well press the subject.

Felicity sighed, closing her eyes for a long moment before glancing back at him.

“You remember…” She took a deep breath. “You remember my boyfriend, Cooper, that I told you about?” 

“Ex-boyfriend, right?” he asked, a brief image of a man with dark hair standing outside an airport coming to mind. “Robin Hood.”

Felicity winced, closing her eyes and nodding. “Yeah, him. He… Uh, you remember I told you he hacked the Department of Education to erase student loan debt?”

“Using your super virus thing. Yeah. That’s why you dumped him. Then you proceeded to use me in an airplane bathroom for revenge,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood, but Felicity’s mood didn’t look lightened. In fact, she just frowned at his teasing.

“Yeah, well...” She paused, taking another deep breath and Oliver felt his chest clench. What was so bad that she couldn’t even get the words out? “We thought we’d cut the connection in time. _I_ thought I’d gotten to it before anyone could trace us, but… The FBI showed up about a year later.”

Oliver sucked in a sharp breath. He didn’t know what to say. “Did you get in trouble?”

Felicity sighed and shook her head. “No. Not me. Cooper. They arrested him, tried to get him to flip on his partners, but he wouldn’t.”

A wave of relief rushed through Oliver’s chest. Obviously, Felicity was fine. She was here, applying for a job at his family's company. Still, it was nice to know she hadn’t been arrested. She looked shaken, though, guilt furrowing her brow, so he reached over, placing his hand on hers. “It’s not your fault. I'm sure Cooper knows that. He did something stupid and illegal. You shouldn’t feel guilty that he ended up in jail.” 

Oliver had barely finished speaking when Felicity turned on him, the fire in her eyes so similar to what he remembered of her in Vegas, but also different. Sadder, distraught.

“Cooper didn’t go to jail, Oliver,” she hissed, tears gathering near her lashes, waiting for the final push before falling over the edge. “He killed himself.”

###

It was the first time she’d said the words out loud.

She’d heard them enough, repeated them in her head for weeks after she’d found out he was gone, but she’d never given them a voice. Never let them escape her. She hadn’t even been able to tell her own mother, instead sending her an article she’d found on the internet. Felicity had held onto those words like she’d held onto her guilt.

Cooper had killed himself.

Because of her.

She knew, logically, that Cooper had brought this upon himself. Upon her. He’d been the one to steal her virus after she’d specifically told him that they were only going to test it to see if it worked. It did, of course, so while she was in class, he and his roommate, Myron, had decided to try again. They weren’t quite as proficient as Felicity, though, and it had taken them longer than they’d thought to get into the DOE. She’d come back from class and literally pulled the plug from the wall to stop them, but not in time to save Cooper from the consequences, it turned out.

She’d broken up with him on the spot, then she was off to Vegas to see her mother and have her impromptu adventure with Oliver. She was supposed to be over him, she’d told herself she was, but less than six months after she’d left him he was weaseling his way back into her heart and her bed. Then the FBI had shown up; driven their big black SUV's right up onto the sidewalk outside of the library as Felicity and Cooper were kissing goodbye before class. They’d dragged him away, holding her back as she’d struggled, crying out for him. That was the last time she’d kissed him. The last time she’d felt him hold her. She’d gotten the call that he’d died only a few months later.

It was from his mom. She’d yelled, cursed, thrown out all kinds of accusations that Felicity wanted to refute, but couldn’t. Because Cooper’s mother wasn’t wrong. It was Felicity’s fault. She’d created the virus that he’d used and she’d been too afraid to confess to the FBI, even when she knew it meant Cooper could go to jail for the next five to twenty years. If she’d just confessed, if she’d just gotten back from class sooner, if she’d never created the virus in the first place…

“Felicity…”

Oliver’s soft whisper pulled her from her thoughts and she realized that the tears that had begun to prick the backs of her eyes had started to fall, tumbling down over her cheeks and dripping off her chin.

“He died, Oliver,” she said softly, looking to him for something. Comfort, maybe? She honestly didn’t know what she expected him to do for her. “He hanged himself in his jail cell before sentencing.”

She removed her glasses, swiping at her cheeks. Her makeup was probably already destroyed, but she was still careful not to make it worse.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, scooting a few inches closer to her, but he didn’t try to touch her. He just waited, letting her decide what she needed.

She’d cried—oh, had she cried, and screamed and raged—but she hadn’t broken down in someone’s arms and let herself be comforted. The only person she’d had in Boston was Cooper and Felicity had avoided her mom like the plague, because she couldn’t deal with her mom on top of losing Cooper, she just couldn’t. But now… It was tempting to let Oliver hold her, to let him try to heal her. She could tell he wanted to by the sympathy in his blue eyes, by the way his fingers twitched like he wanted to reach out to her. It would be nice, she suspected, to let herself go, to take this moment, his comfort, but if she started she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to stop.

“That was almost six months ago,” she said, trying to stuff her feelings back down deep where they couldn’t hurt her. “I needed to move forward, get out of Boston. And all of the best tech companies are out here anyway,” she joked and, even though she could tell it fell flat, Oliver still quirked a small smile for her. She sniffled, then tried again. “I’ve had enough of talking about my disastrous relationship, let’s go back to talking about yours.”

“Definitely not,” he teased. “Although I am up for another debate over the merits of chili fries.”

“Drunk people love chili fries, Oliver. That’s just a fact.” Felicity laughed, feeling the raw wound she’d ripped open by bringing up Cooper start to heal over just a little. Enough that the pain no longer took her breath away. 

She could tell from the way he was watching her that he wanted to say more about Cooper, but she appreciated him letting the subject drop. She wasn’t even sure why she’d told him about Cooper in the first place.

“Sounds like you’re a fun drunk.” Oliver smiled, absently playing with the plastic bag their food came in. “If I do open the club you’re going to have come check it out. I’ll have them make a special batch of chili fries just for you.”

A ball of butterflies formed in Felicity’s stomach at the idea, because this wasn’t the same as last time. They weren’t strangers any longer. She had his number now, could call anytime she liked. They could make plans like this and actually follow through with them. That was equal parts frightening as it was exciting. Before she could figure out a reply, the door scraped open to reveal Dig, an LED lantern in hand.

“It’s getting dark,” he said and Felicity looked around, realizing just how quickly the light had seeped out of the darkening warehouse. Oliver gave Dig and the lantern a curious look, so the bodyguard lifted it in explanation. “I keep it in the back of the car, just in case. It comes in handy for impromptu picnics in abandoned buildings.”

Felicity laughed, earning a grin from Dig.

“Thanks, man,” Oliver said, pushing himself to his feet. “But it’s getting late, I think we’re done here.”

Felicity nodded. “Yeah, my butt’s starting to hurt from all this concrete. Maybe invest in some chairs before you open,” she joked, letting Oliver help her up from the floor.

He grabbed up the bag and tablecloth, which Dig grabbed from him before leading them out into the cool evening air.

“Felicity,” Oliver said softly, catching her arm as she went to open the car door. “I’m really sorry about Cooper.” Her heart stuttered at the name, but he kept going. “I’ve never been through anything like that, losing someone you love, but… if you ever want to talk to anyone about it, you have my number now.”

Felicity smiled, tears threatening to spill over at the kindness of that offer, and nodded her thanks, before Oliver pulled open her door for her and helped her inside.

The ride back to her hotel took about twenty minutes, enough time for the sky to turn a deep navy color above the city skyline. It was silent for the most part, except for a few comments about places they passed on the way and how, if she got a job in Starling, she’d have to check them out. But every time Oliver pointed out a sushi restaurant or pizza place worth trying, those tiny flutters in her stomach grew more prominent.

As soon as they pulled up to the curb, Oliver hurried around the side to open her door for her and she paused, watching him for a moment. He was a sweet guy and she had no doubt that, if he tried, he could be the type of man he was so afraid he wasn’t capable of being.

“You okay?” he asked, pulling her from her thoughts and she realized she’d been staring. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little nervous about the interviews is all. It was nice not to think about them for awhile.” That much was true at least.

“Want me to put in a good word to HR for you?” he said with a smirk as he walked her to the glass doors of the hotel lobby.

Felicity narrowed her eyes, tilting her head to the side as if in thought. “But would that actually _help_ me get the job or…?”

“Smartass.” He grinned, tugging the lobby door open for her.

She laughed, despite the rush of nerves that washed over her. She had no reason to be nervous. She’d done great at the interviews. Mr. Villanueva had even said as much. Then again, would he have told her if she’d totally crashed and burned?

“You’re gonna be fine, Felicity,” Oliver assured her, the sincerity in his voice soothing her spiraling thoughts. “And I hope QC is smart enough to offer you a job immediately, that way I can drag you out for coffee whenever I need a break.”

Felicity laughed. “ _Or_ you can talk to Tommy about the club and then you can come drag me out for coffee because you’ll be working so hard to get it up and running, coffee will be the only time we’ll have to see each other.”

Oliver grinned at her suggestion, but it faded as he watched her. The look in his eyes brought those damn butterflies back, even stronger than before. “I would make sure coffee wasn’t the only time we’d see each other.”

His voice was low and serious and Felicity felt her heart constrict. _He has a girlfriend_ , she reminded herself, even as she wondered: if she did get the job at QC, how long would it be before she stopped reminding herself?

Sucking in a quick breath, Felicity shifted closer to the door that Oliver still held open for her. “I should get inside,” she said, throwing a thumb over her shoulder. “I have an early train to Central City, so...”

“Right,” Oliver said, nodding. “Of course.”

They both stood, hesitating in the doorway, for another moment before Felicity smiled.

“It was great seeing you again, Oliver.”

Oliver gave her a small smile in return. “You, too. Hopefully, it won’t be two years before we see each other again.”

This was when Felicity should have leaned in, given him a kiss on the cheek and said goodnight, but… she didn’t trust herself. She was feeling vulnerable after their talk about Cooper and something told her the second she got that close to Oliver she’d do something they’d both regret in the morning. So instead, she smiled again, saying a quiet goodnight, before turning to go into the hotel.

“Goodnight, Felicity,” she heard him say as the door gently drifted closed behind her.

###

Drowning. That was the only way Oliver could describe what he felt as he folded the last t-shirt into the drawer Laurel had offered him.

He hated that feeling and right now, unpacking his small overnight bag into her dresser… it was worse than usual. Stepping out into the living room, he saw Laurel sitting at her dining table, papers spread out beside her laptop. She glanced up, smiling when she saw him. His heart throbbed at the way she smiled at him, same as it always did, but tonight he found himself comparing it to the way it raced when he was with Felicity the other day.

“Sorry!” Laurel jumped up, clicking out of whatever she was working on. “Joanna called. She needed me to email her something real quick, but,” she drawled, pressing herself into his chest and giving him a quick peck on the underside of his jaw, “I'm done so you have me to yourself the rest of the night. I promise.”

He smiled, but anxiety filled him. Being honest about his relationship with Laurel—for maybe the first time ever—had left him with a heavy heart and he knew he needed to have a talk with her soon. Tonight, even. He was unhappy with the way things were and he needed to… do something—anything—because this thing they had wasn’t working anymore and he knew he couldn’t keep cheating. He wasn’t a kid anymore, he knew better and he knew she deserved better. Laurel was a great person and he did love her. He needed to do better by her, whatever that might mean.

Her palm playfully rapped against his chest twice before she pulled away. “Go find something for us to watch,” she said. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“Laurel, I’m really not in the mood for surprises. It’s been a long day.” And he had a lot to think about.

“I know, but I promise you’ll enjoy this one.” She disappeared into the kitchen, leaving him to plop on the couch and flick through Netflix for something they’d both enjoy. He opened the app and blindly selected the first movie in her queue.

Was he really going to break up with Laurel? Is that what he was considering? No. No, he just needed to figure out a way to explain to her that he liked what they had now. There was no reason to push things forward so soon when he felt like he was just getting his life in order. Once that pressure was off of him he might be able to set things in motion for the club.

The more he’d thought about the club the more certain he was that it would make him happy. Running a business—and a business he understood—with his best friend? That was the dream, wasn’t it? And after discussing it with Felicity he was confident that his plans could actually work.

Thinking of Felicity had Oliver shifting on the couch to pull out his phone. He thumbed open his messages and scrolled to Felicity’s name. He’d only sent her one text, the one he’d sent yesterday afternoon to wish her luck at her interview. Glancing up to see Laurel rooting around in the kitchen, he typed out a quick message and hit send.

_How’d it go with the interviews?_

He dropped his phone beside him and leaned his head back against the couch. She was probably still in Central City, unless she had a late flight back to Boston. She hadn’t shared her travel plans, so he wasn’t sure if he should expect an answer back anytime soon. He was surprised when his phone buzzed only moments later.

_They were good. Thank you :)_

Smiling down at his phone, he typed out another question. _Any offers?_

 _Palmer Tech had a pretty amazing offer_ , she responded immediately.

Palmer?

 _The watch guy?_ Oliver typed back.

 _Yes, the watch guy lol. He offered me a job in development_ , she said. _I think I’m going to take it._

He tried to ignore the pang in his chest at the thought that she wouldn’t be in Starling, deciding to tease her instead. _So you're going to make watches?_

Her message popped up a few moments later. _I don't think so. He mentioned a few projects that sounded pretty interesting but we’ll see._ _I really wanted QC, but I can do so much more working for Ray. I have to take it._  

Ray… So she was already on a first name basis with the young CEO. Oliver sighed dejectedly as he fiddled with his phone, thinking of an answer that didn't make it sound like he was pouting like a disappointed child. Which he was.

_That's great, Felicity. I'm happy for you. You're remarkable and you deserve it._

It took her a minute to reply. The typing bubble popping up and then disappearing a few times, then finally, _Thank you for remarking on it._

Setting the phone down on the end table, Oliver stared blankly ahead at the television and the description of the movie he’d chosen, but not really seeing it. He’d hoped Felicity would get the job at Queen Consolidated. He’d enjoyed getting to spend time with her yesterday, but he was happy for her, even if he was disappointed. It was like she’d told him on that rocky mountain top in the middle of the desert, she wanted to make something of herself. And if Ray Palmer was the one giving her the chance then he was glad, even if, from the little he knew about Palmer, the guy was a major tool.

Laurel walked into the room carrying a large bowl and dragging him back to reality.

“Oh! I’ve been wanting to watch that one,” she said, gesturing to the TV before she sat down beside him on the couch and handed him a bowl of chocolate mint chip ice cream with two spoons. “Your favorite.” She smiled. “Remember how we used to go to Sundae’s in high school and order the—”

“—Fundae,” he said with a small laugh. “How could I forget? You used to make me share it with you because it was so big.”

“You always took me there when I was feeling stressed,” she said, tucking a foot beneath her as she scooted closer to him, plucking a spoon up and digging into the frozen treat. “And I know you’ve been so busy with work and now dealing with Tommy and we’ve barely been able to see each other. I just thought maybe we could, I don’t know, forget our problems and just be those kids again for a little while.” She laughed, shaking her head a little. “Is that stupid?”

“No,” he said, leaning in to kiss her temple. “It’s nice. Thank you.”

Forgetting his problems did sound nice, but he knew it was unsustainable. He could sit here, watching a movie and eating ice cream, but his gut churned with guilt and self-loathing. Felicity was right. He wanted more than this and part of him knew that he’d been hoping Felicity would get the job in Starling just so he’d have a reason to make a change. It wasn’t all that shocking to realize he’d put all of that weight on her shoulders, because if it was a choice between Felicity and Laurel then that was clear cut. If it was a choice between standing up to his father because a girl he liked was urging him to then he could. But on his own?

It felt like one of those fork in the road moments. Where his life would either continue on the same path or go off in a new direction. Felicity's reply meant he would be staying on his path, even if there was a pang of regret for the road not taken. But, he mused, just because the path that lead to Felicity might be blocked off, that didn't mean he couldn't still forge a new direction himself, if he was brave enough.

He picked his phone up again, sending off a quick text asking Tommy to meet him for lunch tomorrow. Felicity was right. If he wanted his life to be different, than he had to be the one to get the ball rolling.


End file.
